


Extract from 'Letters of Sir Roger Hamley' (Vol. 1)

by Firerose



Category: Wives and Daughters - Elizabeth Gaskell
Genre: Epistolary, F/M, Future Fic, Illustrated, Work In Progress, early 19th century racial attitudes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-28
Updated: 2011-11-06
Packaged: 2017-10-25 01:19:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firerose/pseuds/Firerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These letters from Sir Roger's second African expedition include his original drawings, and will be of interest to all readers of <i>Travels in Abyssinia</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Letter 241

Sept. 12th. 1833.

My dearest Molly

I am safely arrived in the port of Massowah, or Bāse as it is named in the Tigré language. The island on which the port stands, though ¾ mile long & ½ mile broad, scarcely rises 5’ above the sea, being formed entirely of coral. It is amazing to consider that the land is created by the actions of numberless tiny polypifers, as industrious as marine honey bees. Their ceaseless blind striving puts to shame all our architects. But you will want some idea of the place, Molly. I have assayed a sketch of the town from the harbour—you will be charitable enough to put all its infelicities down to the rocking of the boat, but in truth my ability to draw landscapes—indeed, anything much bigger than a beetle—is sadly lacking.

The town presents a most long & low picture—even the domes & minarets of the grand old mosques struggle to lift their venerable heads above the mean thatched huts that straggle over half the coast and in places even stretch into the sea upon stilts. The rough timber is mercifully draughty, for the combination of heat & humidity makes a man feel like a plum pudding a’steaming! Despite the superabundance of water, the inhabitants go thirsty, for there is no spring on the island. The islanders, who number some 2,000, trap what little rain falls most ingeniously in huge cisterns which extend over a substantial area of the island, the majority of the need, however, being supplied by water traders from the mainland a ½ mile distant, & at great cost—a skin holding some 7 gallons is said to sell for as much as a grain of gold when the cisterns run dry—no uncommon occurrence in these most arid parts.

Navigation of the Red Sea requires a knowledgeable guide, as uncharted submerged reefs have claimed many ships in these waters, but the harbour once gained is deep & safe, benefiting from a wide bay whose entrance is sheltered by the Dahlak Islands. The 200 islands, or more properly islets—for few of the number are more than a mile across—spill across the sea like raindrops on a greasy pane. I wish that you could see them, Molly—the water is the colour of lapis lazuli & the sand sparkles like snow. You would miss yr. dawn chorus—terrestrial birds & animals are scarce, owing no doubt to the scant vegetation—there is hardly a tree to be seen—but the warm waters hereabouts teem with all manner of life. I hired a _dhow_ yesterday  & took 25 different species in just a few hours—including, if my eyes do not deceive me, some 3 or 4 unknown to M. Cuvier. Most would only be of interest to a specialist, but you would be fascinated, I am sure, by a filamentous organism of an intense red hue, each filament of which is visible only beneath the lens, but which floats on the surface in great mats so as to stain the sea as red as blood over an area of many square miles—indeed the sailors aboard the _Penelope_ would have it that the Red Sea is named for the phenomenon. I believe it might be the ‘sea sawdust’ that Capt. Cook described in his voyages in the southern seas—but if so then God must surely be planing the floors in Heaven! But you must not think that there are no larger creatures to be seen. I spotted a Sea Cow, that gentle herbivorous giant of the waters, but sadly was unable to approach sufficiently closely to make detailed observations. I plan to use my stay here profitably by making a more extensive survey over the coming days.

18th.—Massowah is but the veil to Abyssinia, & the longer I remain here the more I long to lift the veil & see the face. The natives here are of a mongrel sort, more Arab & Turk than Abyssinian, as is only to be expected after 3 centuries of Ottoman rule. Many of the merchants speak a debased form of Arabic, & all are as greedy for gold & given to overcharging men with white skin as anywhere on the Continent—my youthful training in haggling from my father at the Canonbury cattle market has stood me in good stead in provisioning my expedition without emptying my pockets. All claim the port as the ancient gateway to the civilisation of the Axumites—my studies of the Geo. Soc. maps before I set out, however, reveal this to be mere superstition, & characteristic of the exaggerations—& sheer invention—to be found everywhere in these parts.

20th.—My departure is set for tomorrow. You will want to trace my footsteps on the map, no doubt, so I will conclude by writing that I plan to head into Tigré towards Dixan, some 60 miles hence, & then on to Adowa, following Mr. Bruce’s route. You need have no fears for my safety, Molly, for my Abyssinian guide—hired for 5 strips of blue cotton cloth & a handful of glass beads, which serve as currency here—assures me that the wells are safe & the route is free from those warlike tribes that plague the coast further south. The fellow’s honest coal-black countenance is a relief from all the Arabs & half-castes that populate the market here. Letters addressed to Capt. Armstrong at Aden should continue to reach me, God willing.

Yr. affectionate Husband

R. H.

P. S.—Tell yr. Father that his prescription of Quinine admixed with Calomel is both palatable & effective: I have experienced only the slightest touch of fever, despite the most unhealthy atmosphere.

 


	2. Letter 245

Oct. 1st. 1833.

My dearest Molly

The Abyssinian Highlands are a wondrous formation. Imagine, Molly, a sheer cliff of basalt, running 400 miles due S. from the coastal plain & never dipping below 6000’ in height, raised by volcanism to form a near impregnable fortification that renders our Hadrian’s Wall a paltry thing, as might be built from the toy bricks of an infant. It surely numbers amongst the great Natural Wonders of this Earth.

We reached the edge of the plateau after 4 days in the desert, which I shall not weary you by recounting. When first we gained the place where the guide said we should ascend the escarpment, I was incredulous, & exclaimed that the fellow planned to cheat me—but Tekle grinned, not one whit perturbed, & repeated his instruction to follow. He pointed out a narrow cleft, formed by a stream—which must attain the proportions of a ferocious torrent at the height of the rainy season, so marked a gully had it carved—up one face of which a rocky path could be seen to climb. I say path, but it was a most perilous undertaking—unremittingly steep, & interrupted by rugged boulders over which our mules had to be alternately coaxed & bullied, which their handlers achieved by flicking small stones at their flanks.

The ascent took 2 days, & as dusk approached on the first with the summit out of reach, I searched in vain for a ledge on which to camp, when Tekle guided us to some caves in which I passed my most pleasant night yet since my arrival on the Continent. On the 2nd day, the path became yet steeper, more vegetated, & in places most slippery: one of mules missed its footing & nearly plunged into the chasm, a case being unluckily dislodged to slide some 50’ down the gully, before lodging in a crevice. Tekle again proved his worth by scrambling nimbly down the crags in his bare feet to secure a rope around it so that we could haul it back up. Most fortuitously, the chest contained my specimen-collecting equipment & not the fragile geographical instruments: its contents were little the worse for the experience. Aside from my shirt, which is sadly torn by brushing through thorn bushes, & a few cracked specimen jars, we reached the plateau quite unscathed.

Tekle, my guide, as you will have understood from the above, is altogether a fine fellow. Though he presents a most fierce aspect on first acquaintance—his teeth being filed into points—his true character is as gentle as yr. little Tabitha. He comes from a small village in Tigré, & is by way of being a linguist—though of course he cannot read a word—speaking besides his native tongue, fluent Amharic & Hindi, & a smattering of English. The Hindi, I fear, he can only have learned as a slave in India—but on the subject of his history the fellow is as silent as the desert, though in general his chatter is as ceaseless as the fountain at the Towers. He is giving me lessons in the Tigréan & Amharic languages in exchange for tuition in all those European languages I can muster, though his rapidity of learning far outstrips mine.

You will be thinking the Highland Plateau quite as flat as a table top, Molly, but in truth it is anything but—rising in peaks as high as the Alps, & criss-crossed by river gorges almost as deep, which make travel across it an arduous undertaking. The climate, despite the proximity to the Equator, is temperate—the thermometer reads 65º or 70º at midday, & some 6º lower at night—most agreeable after the relentless heat beside the Red Sea, where the temperature never dipped below 85º even at night. I find I can tolerate the heat as well as any man, but at the height of the Massowah dry season even the natives complain of it. The seasons are inverted up here in the Highlands, of course—though the rainy season now nears its end, we have experienced 2 rainstorms, & the sun is often veiled by thin clouds. The long water rations are making short work of the touch of fever that I picked up in the desert.

The land is verdant, with a varied vegetation most pleasing to the eye after the sterility of the coastal plain. The rim of the Highlands is liberally fringed with a species of juniper that the natives name _arze_ , many specimens of which attain a majestic height, the crags themselves being clothed with succulent trees that they call _kol-quall_ —most likely a form of Tree-Spurge. The latter presents a most peculiar appearance—the trunk bears 8 columns of spines each scalloped like a strip of lace, the numerous branches, borne like a candelabrum, being likewise scalloped, & some bear golden flowers at their tips somewhat akin to the wild rose. I have sketched an example of this curious tree for you, Molly, but fear that I have failed once again to do my subject justice. I am in need of Kepler’s Camera Obscura, by which a scene can be traced with exactness by a fellow lacking the smallest particle of artistic talent. Mr. Bruce is said to have carried one—but the design he recommends, with a hexagonal case 6’ across, seems to me entirely impractical for use in the field. I sh’d like to know how he carried it up to the Highlands—with such a device on the back of one of our mules, we would still be pushing the unfortunate beast up the path.

I have yet to observe any large mammals more interesting than the hyaena—which snap every night around our camp, making the mules restless—I have, however, trapped a great variety of birds, too numerous to describe here. The prize of the collection—in size, if not in rarity—is a huge Bearded Vulture, which the natives call _nisser_ —the largest bird that I have ever seen. It has a dull gold plumage, much like the new curtains in yr. Father’s study, and its wingspan is fully 8’.

26th.—I wrote the foregoing shortly after my arrival in the small hill town of Dixan, with the aim of commissioning a caravan heading to the coast to carry it, but my intention was frustrated—it seems that none pass that way—& so now I pick up my pen again, with much of the month having passed, in the Tigré capital of Adowa, a town of some 800 stone houses guarding a broad mountain pass—indeed, the name simply denotes a pass—where yr. letters of the 1st & 28th of August were awaiting my arrival—& more welcome than any of the comforts of the capital. I am glad that you are going on well at Gower St. without me, & pray that you have now received my previous missives from Aden & Massowah, & are no longer imagining me drowned at sea, or eaten by cannibals, as I am certain that you were when you wrote, despite all yr. assurances.

It is kind of yr. Mamma to spare yr. Father for a visit. You are too modest to attribute the improvement in his spirits to the effects of your own society, but I am sure that he must be as glad of that as of any lecture at the Zool. Soc., however august the speaker—though Lord Hollingford does not exaggerate in numbering Mr. Owen among the foremost anatomists in Europe, despite his youth—M. Cuvier’s death is a profound loss to our field. I thank you for your excellent notes—Mr. Owen’s comments on the adaptations of the Hornbill bone structure to support this unusual bird’s massive head during flight are of particular interest.1

On a completely different head—& one still closer to my heart than comparative osteology—yr. scheme as to my brother’s poems is a sound one—Aimée is, of course, just the person to ask as to the name to substitute for her own. You are always so alive to the delicacies of people’s feelings, my love.

Yr. most affectionate Husband

R. H.

P. S.—We do not spend many days in Adowa, but press on westwards to Axum—an easy 2 days’ journey—where I am to undertake archaeological investigations for the Soc. Antiq. You must imagine me exchanging my nets & collecting boxes for a spade & a sieve.

1Owen, R. On the Anatomy of the _concave Hornbill_ , _Buceros cavatus_ Lath. Given August 27, 1833 at the Zoological Society of London.

 


	3. Letter 250

Nov. 8th. 1833.

I address you this evening, my dear Molly, from the ancient city of Axum, having arrived here without incident a little over a week ago. It is salutary to reflect that when our ancestors were Painted Barbarians shaking their spears at the Roman armies, the Abyssinians were writing learned commentaries on the Bible, & erecting obelisks of solid granite of a height that would severely tax the ingenuity of our modern engineers. One still stands to this day—you will have to imagine its grandeur, Molly, for no sketch, however skilled the artist, c’d convey the wonder of the thing. ‘But time & chance happeneth to them all’, as King Solomon is supposed to have said, & by the time the Normans had replaced the Romans, the great city was in ruins & its Empire overthrown—but I shall not wear out my pen by a repetition of the history of the Axumites, which others more qualified by far than I have described before me. The modern town can scarcely be distinguished from Adowa, though rather smaller—& its citizens pay as much heed to the antiquities peppering their streets as our Salopian farmers do to the wild roses decorating the hedgerows. It is as if Buonaparte had sacked our fair capital &—a thousand years hence—Londoners dwelled in a huddle of huts beside the Thames—yet the column of the Monument still stood proudly erect, & everyone passed it on the way to the marketplace without once turning their heads.

I plan to remain in the town several further weeks, with the aim of undertaking excavations at a number of promising sites, which I hope might shed more light on the question of whether the Axumite culture originated on this Continent, or was imported from S. Arabia—as Mr. Gibbon believed. My cook, a man named Wasie, hails from a nearby village, & has supplied 14 relatives—from matrons of Lady Cumnor’s age & venerability to children barely past the crawling phase of locomotion—to assist in the labour. The fellow’s culinary endeavours, by the by, taste most peculiar to the English palate, & now that I understand a little of his language I discover that he finds the practice of roasting meat barbarous—yr. Mamma w’d approve the sentiment, though perhaps not the resulting dish.

17th.— Wasie’s family have proved more gifted at archaeology than he is at cooking—his young nephew today sent up a cry of ‘shiny, shiny’ that, when investigated, denoted a gold coin. At first I was in doubt of the boy giving up his prize, but gold is so common here as to be held in little regard, & he exchanged the coin most willingly for one of my spare razors—though as his years can number no more than 10, I am at a loss as to what use he might make of his new possession. Tekle informs me that razors, knives, scissors, steels, &, indeed, worked metal objects of all kinds are much in demand across the interior.

The coin I judge to be a little smaller than a sovereign, though rather thicker in the centre. The gold—as far as I can tell—is of a high purity, & worked with considerable skill. The inscription seems to be in Greek, but is too worn to make out. One side bears the image of a king wearing a high crown & carrying a rod, while on the obverse he is attired in a simple head-cloth, each royal bust being flanked by plump ears of wheat. The portrait, with its hawk-like nose & prominent eyes & lips, perhaps leans toward a man of African stock, but it is as hard to fix upon a definite racial identification as it would be to recognise our monarch from his numismatic portrait, sh’d one happen to pass him on Gower St. I have assayed a rubbing of both sides at the foot of this sheet, so that you might judge for yourself, Molly.

Further investigation of the site—which appears to represent an ancient well—brought out nothing more than pottery shards decorated with simple geometrical designs, & a little brightly coloured glass. My ignorance on the subject of antiquities prevents me even from hazarding a guess as to whether they might be of local manufacture, or imported across the Red Sea—but I trust that they will prove less puzzling to the worthies of the Soc. Antiq., who put my daily bread on the table this month. The most notable find—if this amateur can be allowed to judge—comes from another location to the W. of the town, beside a prominent fallen obelisk—a terracotta vessel, 12’’ high, whose neck is fashioned into the likeness of a female head, with hair as elaborately styled as any English lady attending a ball. Wasie—who has taken a proprietary interest in all my discoveries—names it as a portrait of the Queen of Sheba, the supposed founder of the city—the natives fancifully claim the place for her tomb—but in truth, it bears a close resemblance to one of the fellow’s nieces, a pretty young lass with skin the colour of coffee. Might this be evidence that the ruling caste of the ancient city were—at least in part—African?

23rd.—Yr. letter of Sept. 17th arrived this afternoon, & gave me more joy than an entire hoard of gold coins, despite the grave news that you relate. A stay in Spa sh’d recruit Lady Cumnor’s health, but—as yr. Father fears—such a long journey will inevitably place a severe strain on her constitution. You remain in good health, I hope, despite the sultry weather you mention? It is a pity yr. Mamma’s troubles in finding a suitable replacement for Maria—poor girl—prevent you from spending the autumn at Hollingford, for I am convinced that you w’d find the country air more agreeable. I honour yr. delicacy in not ‘imposing’, as you phrase it, at Hamley Hall—you must, of course, be allowed to judge for yourself whether Aimée w’d suffer more by my Father’s too-evident preference for the English rose over the French lily, than she w’d gain with you as her companion, & gentle champion. I am glad—if you are to be confined to the metropolis—that my shy little Molly has become so intimate with her sister’s relations as to call on them while Mrs. Henderson is abroad. I know that you will have wished all the joys that marriage can bring to Miss Helen K.—now Mrs. Edward Murray, no doubt—& as I write these words, they will be on their wedding journey, & finding them all out for themselves.

Day upon day spent on this arid plain sifting the relics of a people whose time for marrying & being given in marriage passed a thousand years ago has begun to tell on me, & I am eager to resume my survey of the Abyssinian flora & fauna before winter sets in, for the country S. of Axum is wild & little travelled. The great mountain range that covers much of the Abyssinian heartland dominates the view in that direction, & is notable not merely for its height—which is as great as the Alps—but also for the varied & unusual forms which the mountains assume. It is as if their Creator tired of simple cones, & assayed pyramids, tetrahedra, cubes, cuboids, cylinders, & every type of prism. Some rise as lofty narrow columns from a broader base, others are akin to giant paving slabs perched upon one edge, looking as if a gust of wind might blow them over, & yet others take the form of inverted pyramids, balanced most fantastically upon their apex—but you will think that I jest, Molly, when I merely try to put into plain words the wonders that I see around me. The most common form is as if some giant had taken up a mountain like a lump of cheese, & lopped off the top with a gargantuan knife for his supper. The elevated plateau that results is frequently occupied by a fortress, prison, monastery, or like structure—which the natives call _ambas_ —defended from all angles by the nearly sheer sides so that access is often possible by rope alone. It is beyond my imagination how the forces of volcanism & erosion might unite to create these curious formations.

24th.—As I re-peruse my earlier words before entrusting this letter to an Arab trader bound for Zeyla, it is impossible, as a zoologist, not to speculate that—just as civilisations rise & fall, & mountains thrust heavenwards & erode—so too must the members of the Kingdom _Animalia_ flourish  & decay. Was there, perhaps, a time before Adam took up his spear & Eve her spindle, when some other species—now so reduced in might that we cannot even hazard a guess as to which—dominated this Earth? M. Cuvier has documented colossal Mammoths & Mastodons, more fearsome by far than their cousins the Elephants which now walk this Continent—& there must be other species still greater, yet to be discovered.

Yr. very affectionate Husband

R. H.

P. S.—I have sent several cases of specimens to Lord Hollingford—11 in all—but have had no word of their safe arrival—& I dream repeatedly that my beautiful birds have been consumed by beetles until only the skeletons remain. C’d you call at Curzon St., if Lord H. is in London when you receive this—or write if not—& enquire as to their fate? I hope to reach Gondar before the New Year if not delayed by snowfall on the high passes.

**Author's Note:**

> Image sources: view of Massowah (Letter 241): T. Lefebvre _et al_. _Voyage en Abyssinie_ (1845); _kol-quall_ (Letter 245): J. Bruce. _Travels to Discover the Source of the Nile_ (Vol. 5); obelisk (Letter 250): Bruce (Vol. 3); coin (Letter 250): S. Munro-Hay. _Aksum: An African Civilisation of Late Antiquity_ (1991).


End file.
